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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28271277">The best Christmas ever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/aello_np/pseuds/aello_np'>aello_np</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>CSI: Crime Scene Investigation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>#Christmasfic, #bewareofthesap, #dirtytalk, #ezioauditorerocks, #gilandgregdoit, #happyholidays, #marioauditorerocks, #seamlesstan, #smutahoyhoy, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:33:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,088</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28271277</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/aello_np/pseuds/aello_np</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gil had been away for almost four months in Costa Rica and returns a couple of days before Christmas. Greg has to endure some weird things before he can come to the conclusion that this is the best Christmas ever...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gil Grissom/Greg Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The best Christmas ever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This has been a weird year that left me with more time on my hands than expected. I did some writing and got sidetracked by this idea for a Christmas fic. I hope you'll all have safe and healthy holidays and that this story will entertain you for a bit.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was a late, sunny Friday afternoon in December, three days before Christmas eve and the Las Vegas airport was looking very festive with all the decorations in sparkling green and red and the place was bustling with activity. The tall young man with the unruly blond hair in jeans and leather jacket looked over at the big sign with the arrival times. Yes, the flight from San José would arrive on time. Almost four months, he thought and shook his head. The man had been away for three months and three weeks. In Costa Rica. He still couldn’t believe how fast time had been flying. It seemed like yesterday when he’d dropped him off at the airport.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, you can drop me off at the entrance,” the older man with the neatly trimmed beard and grey temples said when the younger man indicated to turn right for the parking deck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But I-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s not necessary that you come in with me,” came the reply. “And we already said goodbye at my place.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He hadn’t exactly been happy, but he respected the other man’s wish. He unloaded the bags from the trunk and watched his figure disappear through the sliding doors without even looking back at him</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least he had accepted to be picked up from the gate today when he returned. Sixteen weeks, almost four months, and all they’d had were a couple of phone calls. The blond man felt his belly flutter with anticipation as he thought about the two days to come. He’d taken the weekend off and he knew that the other man wasn’t expected back at work until Thursday. And if he had any say in it, they wouldn’t get out of bed while getting reacquainted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The status of the flight changed to “landed” and twenty minutes later the first group of passengers came rushing through the sliding doors. Impatiently tapping his feet, the young man waited until finally caught sight of a familiar face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked different and it took the young man a couple of moments until he realised what exactly it was. He wore his hair a little longer than usual, and there was a little more grey at the temples, and the beard had grown considerably longer. His face had a rich bronze tone, which made a nice contrast to the white temples and the bright blue eyes and the blond man wondered if only the older man’s face and arms were tanned. Suppressing a smirk, he told himself, he’d find out soon enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The grey-haired man looked a little tired, but his expression lit up as he caught sight of the younger man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he greeted, his voice soft and his expression tender. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” the young man gave back, just as softly. He fought the urge to open his arms and simply hug him. He knew the other man wouldn’t allow it, he was a very private person. Even after four months apart. He pointed at the luggage cart. “Come on, let me take care of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Greg, do I look so tired?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You need to save your strength, Gil,” Greg gave back and gently tried to shove Gil aside to push the luggage cart towards the exit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, do I?” Gil touched Greg’s elbow, then placed his hand next to Greg’s on the handle. It was a small gesture, but it pleased Greg. He knew he wouldn’t get much more from the other man. Not that he expected it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been away almost four long months,” he said, trying to sound casual.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil turned his head and gave him a scrutinizing gaze and Greg was certain that his lover already had an inkling that not everything was fine. But Gil only arched a brow and nodded slowly. “Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Together, they pushed the luggage cart back to Greg’s car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could you drop me off at my place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought we were going to spend the evening together,” Greg said, and slowly closed the trunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Gil replied with a frown almost a little bit too quick. “But I’ve got to take care of a couple of things first.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hiding his disappointment, Greg nodded and got into the car. “Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll pick you up in an hour or two,” Gil promised and placed a hand on Greg’s arm. “We could go out for dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could order something in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve probably eaten a lot of junk food in the last three months, Greg.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did Warrick tell you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you,” Gil gave back. “Humour me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Greg agreed and started the car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Almost two hours later, Gil checked his reflection in the mirror. He’d gotten his hair cut, trimmed his beard and had a shower. He’d made a couple of phone calls, booked a table in a little Italian restaurant they’d been to before and changed the sheets. Then he put on one of the suits he usually only wore to court because he knew Greg liked it. He even picked a tie to wear, because it seemed appropriate for the enterprise he was about to embark on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg had been anything but happy when he’d accepted the invitation to Costa Rica. They’d been together for a little more than a year when he’d received the invitation. It didn’t really come unexpected, he’d pulled some strings and called in a couple of favours. So, in fact, it hadn’t actually been an invitation at all. Fully aware that accepting it had been an act of selfishness, he’d chosen not to tell Greg in detail how it happened. And despite knowing that it would put a strain on their relationship and hurt the other man, it was a step he’d felt he needed to take. He’d grown accustomed to being around Greg. To have him around in the lab and in his bed and he’d decided that he needed to find out why he was spending time with Greg. Because it was so simple and easy to be with the younger man. He wondered whether he’d miss him if he couldn’t be with him every night and day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And amongst other scientific discoveries, he found his answer. He had missed Greg’s company. As a companion and as a lover. And though things weren’t so bad between them, he wanted more than what they already had. More than the friendship they already shared. It wasn’t exactly casual. He was certain that Greg didn’t see other men. Or women. To have sex with them. Yet, they did practise safe sex and used condoms. At least when they had intercourse. Not for oral sex, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, Greg was perfect as a lover. He liked playing the blushing virgin, and he was exceptionally good at it, but in fact, he was absolutely unabashed and uninhibited. He was curious by nature and unjudging. He liked trying things at least once just for the sake of trying, like a true scientist, and Gil was convinced that he’d have to try very hard to find something Greg would not be willing to try. And trying they had been a few things. Some roleplaying. The eager student trying to seduce the professor after the lecture. The hitchhiker getting friendly with the older man who gave him a ride. Some light bondage with his tie and the belt of a bathrobe. They even exchanged some salacious texts on their personal cell phones. Nothing too extreme. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And still… Gil admitted to himself, that he’d never fully let go when they had sex. There was always that part of himself he felt he needed to keep in check. Biting his lips, to keep himself from murmuring something silly in the throes of passion. Something he might feel that very moment, completely naked and vulnerable in Greg’s arms. A promise or a vow, that was true the moment he might utter it, but something that wouldn’t survive said moment and which he would never be able to keep. And saying it, having Greg hear and try to hold him to that, was something he just couldn’t risk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d always thought that keeping away from people would keep him from getting hurt. And if he couldn’t keep away from people, he had to hide his thoughts and emotions. But being with Greg had taught him that his premise had been wrong. Greg wasn’t afraid to wear his heart on the sleeve, even if it meant getting hurt. And being away from Greg he’d realised that if he wanted more, he might have to risk something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d pondered a proper gift for Greg to underline the sincerity of his proposal. He’d never seen Greg wear any jewellery, no rings, no bracelets, no necklaces. Processing a crime scene or analysing evidence they had to wear gloves, so jewellery didn’t really come in handy. Reverently, he brushed his fingers over the long, slim box, neatly wrapped in blue paper, sitting on the kitchen island. After a long search, he’d finally settled for a watch and hoped Greg would like it. Setting his jaw determinedly, he slipped the present into the inside pocket of the jacket, then left his apartment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the same time, Greg nervously wandered around in his apartment. He was certain that Gil wouldn’t come to pick him up, but call and cancel their appointment for one lame excuse or another. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil had been pretty distanced at the airport and in the car. Just like he had been the few times they’d managed to talk on the phone while he’d been in Costa Rica. Gil had talked about bugs and beetles and how hot it was. And he hadn’t dared to talk about all the things that bothered him because he felt like he’d be exaggerating and burden Gil with things the man wouldn’t even understand or care about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been looking forward to talking to Grissom every single time, and every single time he couldn’t think of anything to say. So he kept it all to himself. His frustration over Sara’s snide comments. Because she thought he’d stolen Gil from her. Nick’s indifference. Who felt uncomfortable around him, because he’d found out that Greg was gay. Warrick’s reservation. Who wanted to stay out of any trouble, because he was the supervisor while Gil was away and couldn’t get dragged into that whole mess. To that, he could relate. Not to Sara’s and Nick’s behaviour. Telling Gil wouldn’t actually have solved the problem, of course. But it would have been nice to share it with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he was able to continue worrying about it, his cell rang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil smirked as Greg stood next to the car, his expression baffled. He lowered the window. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Greg, get in, we’ve got a reservation in twenty minutes and I’m sure they’re going to let someone else have our table if we don’t show up in time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I am underdressed,” Greg stammered and looked down along his frame. He still wore the blue jeans and a greyish, washed-out shirt with a faded “Led Zeppelin” print under a black leather jacket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look handsome, Greg,” Gil gave back. It was his honest opinion. It suited Greg, it was sportive, maybe not elegant but certainly not unkempt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wear red chucks.” Clean polished sneakers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get into the car.” Gil leaned over the passenger seat and opened the door. Amused, he watched Greg climb into the car. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to start a conversation, asking Greg, who nervously shifted on the seat about the Led Zeppelin shirt. Hesitantly, Greg told him he’d got it in a music store, along with a couple of Led Zeppelin albums after they’d listened to the band’s first album together at Greg’s place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had no idea you were that much into Led Zeppelin,” Gil noted, pleased that there was something they shared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like their later stuff better,” Greg said and visibly relaxed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you might prefer the earlier songs,” Gil mused. “It’s more straight forward, less sophisticated and experimental.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, true,” Greg started and then elaborated on the reasons why he preferred Led Zeppelin’s later songs and why “Kashmir” was their best song ever. They were still discussing pioneers of Hard Rock and the influence of British bands on American music since the 60s when they arrived at the restaurant. Greg fell silent again, and Gil reached for his elbow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look good, Greg,” he tried to reassure the younger man. He was certain that no one would care about Greg’s casual look. Probably people would only notice how handsome he was, not the clothes he wore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should have let me change into something more suitable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve been there before a couple of times,” Gil reminded him. They both liked coming here. Because the food was really good and it usually wasn’t so crowded. “Recently, after a double shift for a late lunch. And we both didn’t exactly look presentable then.” About two or three weeks before he’d left for Costa Rica. Exhaustion had been plainly visible on their faces and in their postures. Greg had worn one of those weird checkered shirts. And still, they’d been admitted in and received excellent service. And an even better Saltimbocca alla Romana. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg sighed. “People will stare.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just because they’ll wonder about this handsome young man by my side.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil gave him one of those charming smiles and Greg was almost willing to believe him. Gil was looking edible in the blue suit and with the tie, and he felt like a tramp. But much to his surprise none of the waiters, not even the one who led them to their table - a tall, dark-haired good looking man named Ezio, as his nametag said - seemed to mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg looked around as he followed the waiter to the table. It was early evening and most of the tables were still empty. There were a couple of young men, wearing suits and ties like Gil, probably some bankers, brokers or public accountants who were having a business dinner. Two elderly heterosexual couples, one seated right next to their table. And three women in trouser suits who were celebrating something with s couple of drinks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The feeling of Gil’s hand on the small of his back distracted him a little bit and he was glad when he was able to sit down. Gil sized him up with an intent glare while the waiter handed them the menu. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ordered drinks, Gil some water, because he was driving, and Greg some soda pop, because he didn’t want to drink alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have ordered some wine,” Gil noted and looked up from the menu in his hands. “It’s already after five.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg shook his head and placed the menu on the table. “I’ve worked a double, if I have alcohol now, I’ll fall asleep before they serve the food.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interesting case?” Gil asked and Greg shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t sure he wanted to discuss blood and thunder when they hadn’t seen each other for almost four months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Missing woman. Married,” he gave back a little evasively. “The parents reported her missing. Husband says she’d probably only be spending a holiday or partying with friends. Her friends and her sister say that she wouldn’t do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil nodded. “Any evidence?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg shook his head. “No blood, no signs of a fight or something. And when her credit card was used in California after she disappeared, the FBI took over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ezio, the waiter brought their drinks and they placed their orders, spaghetti alla puttanesca and saltimbocca alla Romana. When the tall man turned around and left their table, Greg summed up the events of the night, writing up his report and handing over evidence to a conceited agent who looked at him like he was a retard. Then he pitched in to analyse some DNA samples, and because they were short on people, he kept working not realising how late it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve come straight from the lab to pick me up?” Gil asked with a concerned expression and shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, kind of Catherine dragged me out of the lab and made me shower and change into clean clothes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a pity I wasn’t there to see it,” Gil smirked and arched a brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can imagine.” Greg returned the smirk and took a sip from his glass. Setting it down again, he cleared his throat and imitated her voice: “Greg, what are you still doing here? Shouldn’t you be on your way to the airport?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil smiled, then laughed, tiny wrinkles around his eyes, and Greg joined the laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is pretty assertive,” Gil said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She is,” Greg agreed. Catherine had been really nice while Gil had been away. She’d been pretty busy, but she’d made the effort to touch base with him a couple of times a week. He smiled as he remembered the Sunday after Gil’s departure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arching a brow, Gil threw him a curious glance and Greg told him about the breakfast with her, Lindsay and Catherine’s mother at Denny’s. He’d felt a little weird and out of place at first, but they’d all been really kind and they had a lot of fun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like you had fun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Greg nodded. This was what he’d been missing. Talking with Gil. Eye to eye. “Yes, I had fun then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And how was Costa Rica?” Greg asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“An experience,” Gil replied and felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as one particularly memorable moment came to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He caught Greg giving him a puzzled look, but he wasn’t ready to share the memory. At least not yet. This really wasn’t the time nor the place to do so. So he shared some other anecdotes and impressions he thought Greg might like to hear. About the small research station at the edge of the Barra del Colorado nature sanctuary and his trips to the national park Tortuguero and the Pre-Columbian Gold Museum. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The black-haired waiter returned to their table and brought their food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The saltimbocca alla Romana for signor Gil,” he said with a heavy Italian accent and placed the plate in front of him on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Gil gave back, a little puzzled that the waiter had remembered his name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And the spaghetti alla puttanesca for signor Greg.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks delicious, thank you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Buon appetito, signori,” the waiter said and with a nod retreated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You bet,” Greg replied and beamed at Gil. A small, genuine smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first couple of bites they ate quietly, then Greg broke the silence: “How is your saltimbocca?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent,” Gil gave back, “it’s tasty and tender. What about your spaghetti?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spicy,” Greg said in between chewing. His cheeks had a nice pink hue and there were a few drops of sweat on his forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you know how the dish got its name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Supposedly it was created by prostitutes who didn’t have much time in between,” Greg paused and gave him a lewd smirk, “consultations from paying guests and so they threw some leftovers in the pan so they could be back at work in bed as soon as possible.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil returned the smirk. He liked listening to Greg sharing anecdotes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to keep talking about prostitutes or do you want to continue telling me about that Pre-Columbian Gold museum?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes? You want to hear about it?” Gil asked sceptically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg nodded and laughed and told him he wouldn’t have asked about it if he wasn’t interested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pleased that the younger man was interested, Gil told him more about the impressions he’d collected in the museum in San José, while they both continued eating. Greg listened to his account, nodding and absent-mindedly poking at his food. From time to time he threw in a question or made a comment and Gil was pleased that he was able to share this with Greg. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They finished their meal and ordered tiramisu for dessert when the waiter came to collect the plates. After the waiter left, Gil cleared his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Greg, there is something I wanted to talk to you about,” Gil said with a grave expression and Greg felt his stomach lurch. Something wasn’t right, he’d felt it at the airport the moment Gil had asked to be dropped off at his place. He’d tried to ignore it, but all of a sudden it made sense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil had been distanced before heading off to Costa Rica. He hadn’t really made the effort to connect with him the few times they had been talking on the phone. And he had been distant when he picked him up at the airport. Gil hadn’t wanted to order something in, he’d insisted they’d go out to a posh Italian restaurant and he’d dressed up.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It could only mean one thing: Gil wanted to get rid of him and he’d taken him here to this restaurant they’d been to before so he wouldn’t make a scene. Probably thought he’d quietly accept and agree to everything Gil said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got a present for you,” Gil said and produced a small, longish box from the inside pocket of his jacket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christmas was in only a couple of days and Gil was giving him a present now? He seriously wanted to break up with him in a restaurant by handing him an early Christmas present so he wouldn’t have to face him during the holidays?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil handed him the package. Reluctantly and with an overwhelming sense of doom, Greg unwrapped the tiny box to open it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A watch?” With an angry frown, he sized up the older man. “As in ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>your time is up</span>
  </em>
  <span>’?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think this is funny?” Greg asked him angrily. And it was certainly not the kind of reaction Gil had been expecting or anticipating. He’d taken his time to pick the perfect gift for the man he wanted to spend his life with. And he had been certain that Greg not only would like the watch but instantly realise its meaning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Gil gave back, slightly confused. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That you want to break up with me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you think that I want to break up with you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been acting weird and avoided talking to me,” Greg accused him and drew a deep breath. But before he was able to continue, the waiter brought their dessert. Gil thanked him and watched Greg bite his lips and nervously fiddle with the wristwatch. Over Greg’s shoulder, he caught sight of the man at the next table, glaring at him with disdain. Gil was well aware that the restaurant wasn’t the best place to have this conversation. But he was going to have it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg noticed his gaze and rolled his eyes. “I’m embarrassing you. But what did you expect?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil reached for Greg’s hand that was still toying with the watch. “You’re not embarrassing me, Greg,“ he softly said and caressed the back of Greg’s hand. “And the watch doesn’t mean ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>your time is up</span>
  </em>
  <span>’,” he shook his head. “It means, ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>I want to spend more time with you</span>
  </em>
  <span>’,” he added softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Greg’s jaw dropped and he had that deer caught in the headlights look. But at least he didn’t pull away his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to break up with you. What I have in mind is more the opposite.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The confused expression on Greg’s face changed to surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… when you… I thought,” Greg stammered, vigorously shaking his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been so distanced when we were talking on the phone while you were in Costa Rica.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil knew what Greg referred to. “I know what you mean,” he nodded and caressed Greg’s hand. “The mobile reception was weak, most of the time non-existent,” he explained. “There was a landline in a common room.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg’s expression softened and he visibly relaxed. “And you didn’t want to share intimate information with bystanders?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I didn’t,” he admitted. The common room had been quite crowded most of the times, and though he hadn’t been able to see Greg’s face, his disappointment given the trivial conversation had been evident in his voice. He’d been aware that Greg hadn’t been happy about it but never would he have guessed that it made Greg conclude that he wanted to get rid of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I should have told you.” Gil managed to look contrite and Greg couldn’t help smirking, utterly relieved that he’d been wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you should have,” he gave back and pushed forward his lower lip, indicating a pout. He let the watch slip from his fingers and turned his hand, sliding his palm against Gil’s. He’d missed being able to touch Gil, and though this wasn’t exactly what he wanted, it was what he’d take until they were alone and he could have more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry,” Gil softly said, squeezing his hand. Greg replied to the gesture and for a few precious moments, they sat there, smiling at each other in silent understanding. Then Gil let go of him and Greg reached for the pastry fork on the small plate with the tiramisu. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like the watch,” he said. It was a sports watch, made of black stainless steel. It had a simple yet elegant face, white with black Arabic numerals, a date display and a stopwatch function. It wasn’t the type of watch he might have gotten for himself. It looked way too expensive. But it looked like something Gil might wear if he was twenty years younger. He smirked as he shoved a fork full of tiramisu in his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so funny?” Gil wanted to know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s very you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil mustered him with surprise, obviously clueless what he referred to. So Greg pointed to the watch. “The watch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that a bad thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Greg said, slowly shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so.” He tilted his head and sized up the other man. Something was different, he suddenly noticed, but he was unable to pin it down. Maybe it was just the suit and the tie, he pondered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he realised it. Gil had gotten his hair cut. He had his beard trimmed. He wore that blue suit he usually wore to court. With the tie. Gil had apologised and brought him a present. One that was supposed to say Gil wanted to spend more time with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gil, what is this really all about?” Greg asked nervously. Obviously, Gil didn’t want to get rid of him, but there was something else going on. It was obvious. And he wanted to find out what it was because he really had no clue. And he’d been damn wrong with thinking that Gil wanted to quit him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a smile, Gil put down the fork and with the napkin wiped his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t it obvious?” Gil asked, and placed the napkin beside the plate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are trying to apologise?” Greg guessed. He looked a little puzzled and his hand went to the watch again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil shook his head. “Yes, I did that, because I think I owe you one.” He gave Greg an encouraging smile. He would have to tell Greg about the reasons for going to Costa Rica. Because Greg needed to know. But that would have to wait until later when they had the privacy to discuss the matter. Right now there was something else he had to tell Greg. “But that was not what I was trying to say.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what do you want to say with this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching for Greg’s hand, Gil drew a deep breath. He had to say it before he wouldn’t dare. Not because he wasn’t certain, but because he was afraid that Greg might refuse him. “Marry me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Greg had been mildly surprised before, he seemed absolutely astonished now. “Did you really say what I think I heard?” Greg asked, and scratched his head. “You’re just kidding me, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never been more serious about something, Greg.” Or nervous, he added in thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could practically see the cogwheels turn in Greg’s head as the younger man’s eyes wandered from his face down to his hand, holding Greg’s, then to the tiny package with the wristwatch and then back along Gil’s frame up to his face again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, this was what you meant by ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>more time</span>
  </em>
  <span>’,” he finally muttered under his breath with a frown, more to himself, as his gaze wandered back to the watch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil could sympathise, it was a surprise. He had been surprised, too, when he realised that this was what he wanted. So he just held Greg’s hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back and with a smile watched him come to a conclusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg shook his head, then turned back to look at him. “You gave me a watch instead of a ring.” It was a simple statement, not a question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just popped the question, giving me a watch?” This time it was a question, and Greg searched his face for the answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling, Gil nodded. “Yes, I wasn’t sure you’d like a ring. I can get you a ring, though, if you want me to do it right.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Including going down on your knees?” A mischievous spark appeared in Greg’s eyes and Gil was certain that they were both thinking exactly the same. He licked his lips and arched a brow. “People might get ideas if I do it here.” But then, if Greg wanted him to do it right, he’d make a fool of himself if it increased his chances to make Greg accept.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You asked me to marry you,” Greg gave back with a leer and squeezed his hand. “People will get ideas because no one would buy me wearing virgin white.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil caught sight of the couple at the next table shaking their heads, but he couldn’t care less. Greg hadn’t rejected his proposal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So is that a yes?” Gil asked. He appeared to be anxious, and Greg was certain he’d never seen him like this. So he quickly rose from the chair, rounded the table and flung himself at Gil. “Yes,” he mumbled against Gil’s neck. He was dimly aware of the disgusted muttering from the couple at the next table. He’d been aware of their snide comments aimed at Gil at him, but he found he didn’t bother. Not now after Gil just asked to marry him and he had him in his arms for the first time after more than three months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil patted his back and Greg slowly released him, to go and sit back down on his own chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Waiter!” The man behind him shouted. “Waiter!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waiter came, eager to ask for their wishes. The man complained about the intolerable couple at the table next to them. Confused, the waiter looked over to the table, clearly not understanding what Gil and Greg might have done to upset someone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scusi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s bad enough that we have to sit next to some of those people,” the man told the waiter indignantly. He made no effort to lower his voice to make sure Gil and Greg couldn’t hear him. Quite the opposite, he pointed his finger at Gil accusingly. “He proposed to his little boyfriend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frowning, Greg tilted his head, considering a nasty reply, but Gil seemed to read his mind and simply shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The waiter’s expression lit as he turned to Greg and Gil. “Oh, bene!” He paused for a moment before he continued: “But you accepted, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beaming, Greg affirmed and the waiter gave Gil and Greg a smile. “Congratulations!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t seriously think that it’s alright for two men to MARRY!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or two women,” the homophobe’s wife piped in for the first time and added some of her own to her husband’s thoughts that culminated in the threat that they wouldn’t come back if they had to expect to meet people like the ones on the table next to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Patiently, the waiter listened to the litany of outrageous insults. “I see,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to talk to the manager,” the man finally demanded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a noncommittal smile, the waiter nodded and returned a few minutes later with an older man to the table. He was considerably shorter than Ezio and had neatly combed black hair. Like Ezio, he wore black trousers and a white shirt. Only his shirt stretched over an impressive belly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am Mario, and I am the manager,” he introduced himself, “there is a problem?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Greg or Gil were able to say something, the man at the other table raised his voice again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, he wants to know if there is a problem,” he snorted towards his wife, then repeated his accusations and how unnatural it was for two men to marry and that he couldn’t possibly be seated next to them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hands folded over his belly, a jovial smile on his lips and his head slightly tilted to the side Mario quietly listened to him, nodding from time to time. When the man was finished, he raised his head. “I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to Ezio and mumbled something to him. Nodding, Ezio scurried away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Drawing a deep breath, Mario turned back to the man. “You are right. Yes, this kind of behaviour is something we simply can not accept here.” With an abrupt gesture, he turned towards Gil and Greg. “I am terribly sorry you had to witness this, signori. My sincere apologies,” he placed one hand on his heart and indicated a bow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a grave expression, he turned to the couple again. “It is a free land, sir. But I am the owner of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Villa Auditore</span>
  </em>
  <span> and if you feel insulted because on the table next to yours someone proposed to his partner, please feel free not to return.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ezio returned with a slip of paper he handed to Mario. “Here, uncle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Ezio,” Mario said and handed the bill to the complaining guest. “But before you leave, I need to ask you to settle your bill, please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unable to wipe the smirk off his face, Gil winked at Greg. This was certainly something he had not been expecting. The big grin on Greg’s face told him nor had the other man. Greg tilted his head to the side and Gil’s eyes followed the direction his nod pointed towards. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three women in trouser suits curiously observed the complaining patron with the reddened face settling the bill. Then there was a whispered exchange, and they eyed Greg and him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These chicks are checking you out,” Greg whispered and waggled his brows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re not checking me out,” Gil gave back defensively, then threw a quick sideways glance over to the ladies. One of them caught his gaze and gave him a charming smile. Frowning he turned to Greg, who just smirked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you.” Greg seemed rather smug than annoyed and Gil wondered what was going on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the suit, baby.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil looked disbelieving, but Greg was convinced and the ladies’ looks were unambiguous. They were definitely checking out the older man. Who had no clue, nor seemed to care about it. But before they were able to dive deeper into the conversation, the couple at the other table had finally settled the bill and, blustering and railing, made their way towards the exit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am really sorry you had to witness this, signor Grissom,” Mario tried to apologise. “It’s-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr Auditore,” Gil interrupted him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a broad smile, Auditore offered Gil his hand. “Please, it’s Mario.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg smirked as Gil squirming took the hand and shook it. “Thank you, Mario, please call me Gil. It’s not necessary that you apologise for something someone else said.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, but it is!” Mario insisted, and without letting go of Gil’s hand turned to Ezio. He muttered a couple of words in Italian to the younger man, who nodded and then hurried away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg watched the interaction with a smirk. Gil didn’t like being in the centre of attention, and it was obvious that he’d rather be left alone. He’d have to console him later when they were alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Mario let go of Gil’s hand and turned to Greg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg’s smirk dissolved as Mario turned to him and took his hand and Gil couldn’t help the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Signor Greg, congratulations to you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, thank you, Mr Auditore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, please, call me Mario,” Mario insisted. Then the young waiter returned to their table, a bottle of champagne in his hands. “Ah, Ezio, there you are!” He took the bottle from Ezio and handed it to Gil. “Please, take this as a little gift and consider yourself my guests this evening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Gil made a defensive gesture with his hand. “This is very generous, Mario, but we can’t accept this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah,” he gave Greg a wink, then cleared his throat. “I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please,” Ezio threw in, “my uncle will consider you rude if you don’t accept his offer.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Gil,” Greg asked, making puppy eyes at him. “We don’t want to go head-to-head with Mario, don’t we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil wasn’t sure he should accept. This wasn’t bribery or corruption, and Auditore hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d thrown out two guests who most likely wouldn’t return or recommend the place. Maybe Auditore didn’t want Greg and him to file a complaint or something. He couldn’t rule out that it was a genuine, kind gesture.“Alright,” Gil nodded at Greg and Mario put the bottle on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten minutes later they were sitting in Gil’s car, the bottle safely stored in the trunk, on the way back to Gil’s place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look smug,” Gil noticed and Greg decided he had every right to be smug. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was right, the ladies were checking you out,” he gave back, knowing that Gil would object. The three women had mustered him with interest - not that he could blame them - while Mario, the owner of the restaurant, had taken care of the complaining couple at the table next to them. And when they had left the Villa Auditore, one of them had handed Gil a business card, telling him he should call her if he wanted to sue the nasty couple.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were not-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing, Greg patted Gil’s thigh. “Yes, they were, you’re just not aware of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil slipped his hand into his pocket, producing the card and offering it to Greg. “I won’t call her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep the card.” Greg took the card and slipped it back into Gil’s pocket. He knew Gil wouldn’t call her. Gil wasn’t like that, Gil never realised when someone was giving him the eye. Gil didn’t even clue in when someone made a move on him and Greg still wasn’t sure if Gil really had no clue or if he was just pointedly ignoring all these unwanted attempts. “As a souvenir. And who knows, maybe you might need a lawyer someday?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope I don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg chuckled and the next minutes they spent in companionable silence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is not the way back to your place,” Greg noticed, as Gil missed a turn. “Where are we going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll see.” With a mischievous smile, Gil gave Greg’s knee a squeeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Another surprise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing, Gil only arched a brow and Greg felt a surge of longing. For a brief moment, he considered pulling Gil’s hand towards his crotch. Then he discarded the idea. They were in Gil’s car and might get caught. He wondered whether the lawyer from the restaurant would accept that case and couldn’t suppress a giggle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s so funny?” Gil wanted to know. As Greg told him, he shook his head with feigned indignation and pulled back his hand. He caught Greg’s smirk and returned it. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Going to Costa Rica he’d been aware that Greg might not want to see him when he returned. But here they were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we going to visit Catherine?” Greg gave him a confused look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really,” he shook his head. “I just need to pick up something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m curious.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can imagine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not going to tell me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gil!” Greg groaned, impatiently fidgeting on the seat and Gil couldn’t help laughing. The rest of the way to Catherine’s house, Greg tried to find out what the surprise was by asking  “yes” and “no” questions. Gil just shook his head, causing Greg to tilt his head back and sigh in frustration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You will pay for this,” Greg announced and Gil was certain that Greg would find a way to make sure he did. One way or another. He couldn’t help wishing it was going to be sexual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg placed a hand on his knee, slowly sliding the palm up along his thigh. “God, you will,” he promised with a lowered voice and Gil felt a shudder run down his spine. “I promise, you will.” He made a pause, smacked his lips, then gave Gil’s thigh a firm squeeze. “Baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil frowned, Greg had never given him pet names before. He wasn’t sure he liked being called “</span>
  <em>
    <span>baby</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, no one ever called him that before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Greg asked, giving him a puzzled gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being called “</span>
  <em>
    <span>baby</span>
  </em>
  <span>” may take some time getting used to,” Gil said slowly and reached for Greg’s hand on his thigh, guiding it back to his knee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not bent on calling you “</span>
  <em>
    <span>baby</span>
  </em>
  <span>”,” Greg gave back softly. He hadn’t intended to cause the other man discomfort. “It, it just slipped out.” He pulled back his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, did it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could call you “</span>
  <em>
    <span>honey</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, or “</span>
  <em>
    <span>pumpkin</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, if you like that better,” Greg suggested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s, um,” Gil cleared his throat, “take it slowly, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re ready to marry me, but not to pick pet names?” Now it was Greg’s turn to laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Gil shrugged, “no one’s perfect.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg said nothing but smirked. Gil wasn’t perfect and they both knew it. Gil had way too many weird quirks. His tendency to isolate himself. Being monosyllabic. But these quirks were so much part of Gil that it was impossible to imagine the man without them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spend the rest of the drive in companionable silence and Greg wasn’t really surprised when Gil stopped the car in front of Catherine’s house. He waited in the car, while Gil walked over to the house. Catherine opened the door. She was surprised for a moment, because of his suit. They were talking, Gil nodded and laughing, she hugged him. Greg wondered whether it was because Gil had told her about the proposal he’d accepted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you he’ll accept.” Catherine looked smug as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know?” Gil wanted to know. “I wasn’t even sure he’d pick me up at the airport,” he admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Catherine shook her head. “He missed you while you were away, Gil,” she said. “I talked to him. That’s what people do to find out things about other people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil winced. “I am talking to him,” he gave back defensively. Yes, talking had never really been his strong trait. But he was determined not to repeat past mistakes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You better,” Catherine gave back with a stern expression and slapped his arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I try my best,” he promised with a contrite smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again,” she started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fail again. Fail better.” he finished the quote.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Returning the smile, she reached into the pocket of her jeans and handed him a key. “You can keep it till next week.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Catherine handed Gil something Greg wasn’t able to see. It was something small, and Gil quickly pocketed it, before he returned to the car. He climbed back in, started the motor and two minutes later parked the car in front of a house with a “for sale” sign. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t buy a house?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Resting his hands on the steering wheel, Gil looked over at the house and shook his head. “No,” he softly said. “I didn’t. I’ve only seen pictures online and if we move in together, we should both like the place.” He turned to Greg, giving him a mischievous smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” Greg breathed and tried to digest what he’d just heard. It had taken him 8 months before he dared to leave his toothbrush in Gil’s toothbrush tumbler. And now Gil wanted to move in with him. Marry him and move in together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d been together for a little more than a year. They’d been discreet about it at first, and Greg had never been quite certain whether it was because Gil had always kept his private life private. He’d respected Gil’s wish because he hadn’t wanted to put his position as a supervisor in jeopardy. And he’d never really minded. In the lab, Gil hadn’t treated him differently than before and had been kind of thrilling to have a secret affair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil was a very generous lover. Admittedly, not very adventurous, but attentive and courteous. He never told Greg “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I love you</span>
  </em>
  <span>”, at least not in words. Still, when they were alone, in bed or someplace else out of the lab, and no one noticed, Gil took his hand or wrapped an arm around Greg’s shoulder. Knowing Gil, Greg had decided not to push the matter. He thought that Gil would come around at his own pace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At first, he’d thought that it was the age difference. But he’d realised it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t like Gil to just open up and wear his heart on his sleeve and talk about feelings and all that. Gil weaselled out to Costa Rica, that’s what he’d been thinking. But maybe Gil just needed some “away time” to make up his mind what he wanted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The expression of sheer surprise on Greg’s face was priceless, Gil thought as he opened the passenger door for Greg. “Come on,” he said, offering his hand. “Let’s have a look at it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg took his hand and they walked over to the house. “We should have come here during the day,” Greg chuckled, squeezing Gil’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right,” Gil admitted. Catherine had told him about the house a few days ago, and so far he’d only seen some pictures. “But I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you couldn’t wait to see it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I couldn’t,” Gil admitted and opened the front door, pulling Greg along. The door closed behind them and Greg’s arms went around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, I missed you, Gil,” Greg mumbled against Gil’s chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed you, too,” Gil gave back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how long they were standing there in the darkness, tightly wrapped around each other. But after some time, Gil slipped from his arms and took his hand. “Come on,” he said, “let’s have a look at the house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s dark here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m certain we’ll find the main light switch if only we’ll look for it,” Gil whispered against Greg’s ear, then pulled him along. It didn’t take him long until he found it, and the soft glow from one single lightbulb at the ceiling illuminated the room, an entrance hall, that led into a huge living room with a fireplace. A double door led to a terrace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg was just picturing the room, fully furnished and with a cosy fire crackling. And Gil and him naked on a soft comforter right in front of it, making love. He let go of Gil’s hand and went over to the fireplace, brushing his hand over the mantle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil was standing by the doorframe, one hand pushed into the pocket of his pants, smiling at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s huge,” Greg noticed. And probably unaffordable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three bedrooms,” Gil started and slowly walked towards Greg. “Two bathrooms and there’s a tool shed in the garden by the pool.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Toolshed by the pool, huh?” Greg echoed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a smile, Gil placed his hand next to Greg’s on the mantle of the fireplace. “Do you like it?” He brushed their fingers together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s awesome,” Greg gave back and intertwined their fingers. It was a small tender gesture and Gil became aware just how long it had been since they were intimate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’ll like the bedrooms upstairs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could find out,” Gil suggested and slipped a hand under the lapel of Greg’s leather jacket. Greg’s chest was firm and warm against his palm. He felt the irresistible urge to slide his hand under Greg’s shirt to feel his skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, you know, I find this fireplace pretty inspiring,” Greg mumbled and cupped his cheek. It was obvious what Greg meant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Gil asked and slowly moved his hand down to the waistband of Greg’s trouser. “Did you have something special in mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg brushed his thumb over Gil’s lips. “I’ve never made love in front of a fireplace,” he mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? We could change that right now,” Gil suggested and pulled down the zipper of Greg’s pants. Slipping his hands into Greg’s pants, stroking him to full hardness and finishing off with his mouth was not making love. But it would be enough for the moment and they could still take it slowly later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, another brilliant idea you’ve had today,” Greg mumbled and leaned in for a kiss. Closing his eyes, Gil willingly parted his lips, letting Greg explore his mouth. He felt Greg slightly tremble as he slipped his hand into the fly, brushing his fingertips lightly over the hard length of Greg’s arousal. With a soft moan, Greg let go of his lips and tilted back his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d missed the feel of his lover’s touch the moment he’d dropped Gil off at the airport and it had been damn long three and a half months.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, you feel good,” Gil mumbled, “do you like this?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he was able to reply, there was a sound by the entrance. They startled and turned around, only to find two policemen pointing their guns at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t move,” one of them barked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hands up!” the other shouted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg caught Gil’s confused gaze because of the contradicting orders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do one without the other,” Gil managed to get out through grit teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The policemen exchanged glances and nodded at each other. Then one of them said: “Alright, raise your hands, slowly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, carefully, Gil pulled his hand out of Greg’s briefs. The sudden appearance of the police had put a serious dampener on their moods, and on Greg’s arousal. He didn’t dare pull up the zipper, but at least Greg’s privates were covered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, officers,” he said, as he slowly raised his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you and what are you doing here?” One of the policemen demanded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am Gil Grissom,” Gil replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Greg Sanders,” Greg said, “and we’re with the Las Vegas Crime Lab.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” the other policeman gave back, his voice dripping with irony. “And I am Captain America.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a simple way to find out,” Gil said. “Call Captain Brass.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or the Sheriff,” Greg added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing, one of the policemen activated his walkie-talkie. “Hey, we’ve got two clowns here who claim to be with the Las Vegas Crime Lab,” he started, “One calls himself-” he looked at Gil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Greg Sanders and Gil Grissom,” Gil said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten minutes later, after their identities had been confirmed and the policemen heard and were convinced of the story of two men wanting to view a house, they were finally alone again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Greg said slowly, as they climbed the stairs hand in hand to have a look at the other rooms upstairs, “this isn’t exactly how I thought the evening would go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Greg moved closer and slid his arm around Gil’s middle. “Honestly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, yes,” Gil mumbled against his neck. “Tell me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d pick you up from the airport, get you to your place, out of your clothes and get bonked senseless.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil laughed softly and tightened his grip around his shoulders. “I am not certain I’ll be able to live up to your expectations tonight, Greg.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg sighed again. After a double shift, a rich meal and the shock of staring down the </span>
  <span>barrel of a gun he felt kind of drained all of a sudden. “I’m not sure I’d be either,” he admitted and rested his head against Gil’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t worry,” Gil chuckled, “I still want to marry you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, yes,” Gil mumbled. “You’re quite useful at times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg laughed, obviously realising that Gil was only teasing him. “Am I? What for then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, dropping me off </span>
  <span>at the airport, or picking me up there,” Gil whispered and pulled Greg along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you don’t want a husband, but a chauffeur?” Greg huffed and followed him to one of the bedrooms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am quite certain you can offer other services, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not bad at nuking microwave dishes and I make good ramen noodles,” Greg claimed and placed a kiss on his cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Greg nodded. “And I am brilliant at ordering Thai and pizza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good to know.” At least Greg hadn’t lost his humour, Gil thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg untangled himself from Gil’s arm and walked around in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think?” Gil asked. Despite the darkness outside and the sparse lighting, he liked what he saw and he could afford to buy the house if Greg liked it. He’d never really cared much about where he lived, as long as there were enough shelves for his books and some walls for his framed butterflies and bugs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg shrugged and looked at him. “It’s perfect.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The house was really awesome, Greg thought. And the prospect of living here with Gil was thrilling. “But it’s probably super expensive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil offered him a hand and Greg came closer. “Greg, you don’t need to worry about that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg drew a deep breath. “But I do worry about that,” he started and took Gil’s hand. “This house is awesome, Gil, really.” But it was huge and they’d need a cleaner, a gardener and a pool boy. And he probably couldn’t come to a decision when he was tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg sighed and stepped closer. Gil had made the effort to check out pictures of the house online. Had talked to Catherine to get hold of the keys and had probably been looking forward to getting Greg’s two cents. And all he could come up with was worrying about details. He was such a spoilsport. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Suggestion,” Gil said and slid an arm around Greg’s middle, “we’ll come back tomorrow, well-rested after a nice breakfast and have a look at the house again. And if we find we don’t like it, we can find another one.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” Greg nodded and snuggled up against Gil, “sounds like a plan.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on then,” Gil pulled him along. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>**</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg was unusually quiet on the way back in the car and Gil wondered whether he should have taken it more slowly. It was obvious that Greg hadn’t been thrilled about the house and Gil wondered whether it really only was because of the money. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They arrived at his place and he was pleased as Greg took the bottle of champagne and then reached for his hand. “I’m tired,” the younger man announced. “Do you mind if we go straight to bed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Giving Greg’s hand a squeeze, Gil laughed softly. He was pretty tired, too. “No, I don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, good,” Greg mumbled and returned the squeeze. “I’m glad we’re not married </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil, who was about to unlock the door, stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at Greg. The younger man had a broad grin on his face and Gil was certain that whatever Greg wanted to say he’d better hear behind closed doors. He quickly unlocked the door and after they stepped in, closed it behind them. He took the bottle from Greg’s hands and put it in the empty fridge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” he asked and loosened his tie, “why are you glad we’re not married yet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg gave him an almost bashful smile as he slowly stepped closer and reached for the tie to undo it. “I am not sure I’d be able to fulfil my marital duties tonight,” he admitted softly as he pulled the tie off Gil’s neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil chuckled and placed his hands on Greg’s hips. “Are you too tired to make out in bed for a bit?” Even if they were both too tired to have sex, it would be nice to be intimate with Greg and hold him in his arms for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Greg mumbled against Gil’s neck. “No, I’m not.” It was a nice thought, lying naked in bed in Gil’s arms and kissing him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I think I can even manage to undress you,” Greg added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you?” Gil arched a brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg nodded and took the other man’s hand, tugging him along to the bedroom. He dropped the tie on the chair by the bed and slipped out of his shoes. With a smirk he watched Gil sit down on the edge of the bed to undo the laces of his shoes. He got down on his knees, winking at Gil and helped him get his shoes off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, I missed this,” Gil teased softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me going on my knees for you?” Greg teased back as he dropped a shoe to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil laughed and gently touched Greg’s cheek. “Having you around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg stared at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed and Gil leaned down and kissed him. With a soft moan, Greg moved against him, rising to his feet and pulling him along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, let me get this off.” Greg tugged at the jacket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re so impatient.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead of a reply, Greg kissed him and pushed the jacket off his shoulders and down his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been away three and half a month,” Greg mumbled against Gil’s neck. “My palms are calloused,” the younger man pouted accusingly and raised his hand to show his palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Palms? Plural? You’ve started masturbating ambidextrous while I was away?” Gil asked teasingly. “Or did you use both hands at the same time?” He tried to picture it. Greg naked on his bed, slowly stroking himself, in turns using his right and his left hand to give himself the pleasure he usually received from Gil. He reached for Greg’s hand, brushing his fingers over the palm. “Feels quite soft.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg squirmed and giggled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It tickles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This?” Gil repeated the gesture, brushing his fingertips ever so lightly over Greg’s palm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Greg softy said. “You’re lucky I’m so tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I?” Gil asked and arched a brow, then kissed Greg’s palm. “And why is that so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because I’m too tired to tickle you back,” Greg sighed and with his free hand toyed with the top button of Gil’s shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Lucky me,” Gil mumbled and let go of his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, yes,” Greg agreed with a smirk and started undoing the buttons of Gil’s shirt. Gil laughed softly, and kept still, letting Greg take off his clothes. First the shirt, then the pants and the briefs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil’s tan was seamless and he smirked when he noticed Greg’s surprised gaze. “Something wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Greg shook his head. “I was just wondering how you got that seamless tan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skinny-dipping,” Gil whispered against Greg’s ear. He stripped Greg off his jacket and slipped his hands under the younger man’s shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg moaned as he imagined Gil naked on a beach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you shocked?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Greg gave back, arching up against his lover’s naked body. He loved seeing Gil naked, who seemed so comfortable in his skin. “I just don’t like the thought of you parading around butt naked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?” Gil’s hands wandered up along his spine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Greg admitted, feeling utterly silly. He couldn’t quite explain why the thought that other people could see Gil naked irritated him. “I don’t want others to see you like that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Gil whispered back, “no one was able to see me, I promise.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Greg seemed pleased with his reply and hugged him tightly. Gil held him for a while, then helped him strip off his shirt and get out of his jeans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait,” Greg stopped his hand, as he reached for the waistband of the briefs. Pulling back his hands, Gil gave the younger man a puzzled look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, um, got a surprise for you,” Greg said, his cheeks suddenly turning pink. Gil wondered what kind of surprise someone could hide inside his briefs. The first thing that popped into his mind was a circumcision or a piercing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get circum-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WHAT?” Greg stared at him in disbelief and placed his hands over his crotch. “Ouch! Why would I let someone mutilate my penis?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, Greg, I,” Gil gave back, “then what is your surprise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg placed his hands on Gil’s shoulders and made him sit down on the bed. How could Gil think that he got circumcised? As a surprise? Maybe it was just one of Gil’s morbid jokes. Like handing him a bucket in the lab and expecting him to fill it with pee. And when hearing the objection that Greg was no soda fountain, telling him he might need a prostate exam. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No cut penis,” he clarified and he pointed his index finger to his right hip. He shoved down the waistband of his briefs, revealing a tiny tattoo of two twirly, intertwined letters “G” next to the hipbone. “A tattoo, a G for ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Gil’</span>
  </em>
  <span> and the other for ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Greg’</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is beautiful,” Gil mumbled, placing his hands on Greg’s hips. “When did you get it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A couple of days after you went to Costa Rica.” He’d been entertaining the idea for quite a while and scribbled their initials all over a piece of paper, trying various typefaces. He’d finally settled for a twirly font that made the two letters look like they were spooning up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reverently, Gil brushed his fingers over the tattoo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And no one can see it, even if I wear trunks,” Greg added and gave Gil’s shoulder a squeeze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Gil asked and hooked his fingers under the waistband of Greg’s briefs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg nodded and moaned softly as Gil carefully pulled down his briefs to place a kiss on the tattoo. The well-trimmed beard tickled his sensitive skin, sending a ripple of desire through him and Greg felt himself hardening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trunks, hm?” Gil asked, his breath hot on Greg’s skin. “And where would you wear them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, um, it was just an example.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aha, an example?” Gil asked teasingly. Greg trembled slightly and his half-hard cock pressed against Gil’s cheek. “Are you planning to run around half-naked? Is this something we should talk about before we get married?” He brushed his fingers over Greg’s hip. The flight and the evening’s events had taken their toll. He had missed Greg and being intimate with him, but the reality was that he was too tired for anything but a quickie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why would I run around naked?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was you who mentioned running around in trunks.” Gil placed another kiss on the tattoo. He liked the idea that Greg wore the initials of their first names inked into his skin. It was simple, yet elegant. Tiny. And Greg was right. It was their secret and no one would be able to see it, even when he wore trunks. It was a smart idea. And very much like Greg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we should go to bed,” Greg mumbled with little conviction, sliding his hand in Gil’s hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think,” Gil kissed his way from the tattoo to Greg’s navel, “we should take care of this.” He cupped Greg’s half-hard penis, slowly stroking him. Moaning, Greg arched into the touch, then tried to wriggle away from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you... you don’t have to... do this, Gil,” Greg stammered breathlessly. “You, you said you’re... tired… and, and we... should-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should let me be the judge of how tired I am,” Gil said and tugged at Greg’s hip, pulling him down onto the bed. With a sigh, Greg fell into his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil’s body was firm, and the bronze skin warm to his touch. He felt a little guilty for not being able to hide his arousal so Gil felt compelled to offer him relief. “Hm, I missed you,” he mumbled against Gil’s neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you miss most?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg didn’t need long to ponder a reply. “Your mouth,” he blurted and planted a kiss on Gil’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil gave him a mischievous smile and arched a brow. “Yes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg realised how suggestive his reply was. Yes, he had missed Gil sucking his cock. Because Gil liked giving head and teasing him. And he was exceptionally good at it. But that was only part of it. “Ha, not what you think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil’s eyes twinkled as his fingers explored Greg’s side and wandered along his chest, down to the belly. “What do you think I thought?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That I wasn’t thinking with my brain,” Greg gave back with a cheeky smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t?” Gil winked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Greg shook his head and placed a finger on Gil’s lips. He really couldn’t blame him. His hard-on was pressing against Gil’s belly. But he had missed more than the physical intimacy. “I missed your smile and talking to you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The surprised expression on Gil’s face made Greg smile. “You’re so smart, and I love listening to your anecdotes.” He leaned in and kissed the other man. “And when you were away I missed talking to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there something else you missed?” Gil’s lips touched Greg’s neck as his fingers brushed through the coarse pubic hair. He was touched by the thought that Greg had missed him as much as he had missed the younger man. Not only for the obvious, sexual reasons.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, yes, there is something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I missed making out with you,” Greg confessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s make out,” Gil suggested and, wrapping his fingers around the younger man’s erection, kissed him. Moaning softly, Greg kissed him back, rocking into his fist. They moved together, slowly, trading gentle kisses. When Greg’s breathing became ragged, Gil kissed his way down Greg’s pale chest, lapping at the nipples, nipping and sucking and turning them into tiny hard nubs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yes, I missed this,” Greg huffed, caressing Gil’s neck and shoulder and arching up against him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed it, too,” Gil mumbled against warm skin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to do this,” Greg mumbled with little conviction, “you’re probably tired.” Gil couldn’t help smiling. He loved the way Greg opened up, giving himself to Gil without holding back. And despite his obvious arousal and the long time they’d been apart being considerate of his lover’s fatigue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As long as you don’t expect me to perform every single position from the Kama Sutra tonight, I’ll be fine,” Gil noticed and was pleased, as Greg squirmed with laughter under him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I can live with that,” Greg chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, lucky me,” Gil gave back and kissed his way further south. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg groaned as Gil’s tongue flicked over the sensitive tip of his cock. “Don’t tease me,” he whispered, “I won’t be able to-”, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>hold back</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he wanted to add, but Gil’s mouth, caressing the length of his cock, cut off the rest of the sentence. Gil loved teasing him, taking him to the brink, leaving him there and making him beg for his orgasm. But Gil seemed to understand that now was not the time for teasing. He slid his lips down along Greg’s cock, taking him into his mouth all the way, and slipped two fingers into Greg’s tight puckered opening. It didn’t take long, and he came, shuddering and stiffening under Gil, who swallowed every drop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moaned softly when his cock slipped from Gil’s warm, wet mouth. His heart racing in his chest and panting heavily, he toyed with the short hair in Gil’s neck. Gil’s head rested on his belly, his slick fingers brushing over the spot next to his hip bone and Greg smirked when he realised that Gil was caressing the tattoo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” he sighed and snuggled into Gil’s arms as the other man shifted on the bed. “I think you just killed some of my brain cells.” He felt wonderfully warm and heavy, completely satisfied and loved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this good or bad?” Gil asked, sounding amused and tightened his hold around Greg’s shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, good,” Greg mumbled. He’d worried about way too many things while Gil had been away, needlessly so, as it turned out. Gil hadn’t thought of getting rid of him, but wined and dined him - without the wine - and proposed. And now they lay in Gil’s bed, naked in each other’s arms and his brain was a puddle of goo. “Also,” he added thoughtfully and raised his head to look at the older man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you spoiled me for any other lover, “ Greg admitted, fixing his eyes on Gil’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” Gil asked, feeling flattered. But then, he still had the taste of Greg’s semen on his tongue and it probably was only the post-orgasmic bliss that had Greg carried away to such a bold statement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a serious expression, Greg nodded and touched his cheek. “I’m not interested in having sex with someone else.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if we didn’t make love properly?” Gil asked, trying to hide his anxiety. He was well aware of their age difference. He was half-hard, but even if Greg insisted and tried to stimulate him, he wouldn’t be able to perform right now. He wanted Greg to be happy, and sexually satisfied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing softly, Greg rested their foreheads together. “I love you anyway,” he mumbled and kissed him tenderly. “And despite you’re exceptionally good at it, I don’t want you just for the sex.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For Greg, it seemed so easy to say those words, and Gil envied him a little for it. He felt it, too, he loved Greg. He’d probably felt it long before going to Costa Rica but never said it out loud. ”I love you,” he whispered, feeling his heart swell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A dreamy smile on his face, Greg placed a finger on Gil’s lips. “I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil frowned, only slightly, but he seemed surprised by Greg’s determined reply. With a chuckle, Greg tucked his head into the hollow of Gil’s neck. Though being a brilliant scientist and CSI, Gil sometimes seemed unable to understand social interaction or human emotions. If it concerned himself. Maybe it was one of the occupational hazards of being an entomologist, he pondered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you make any plans for the holidays?” Gil suddenly asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Greg replied. “I wasn’t in the mood. Catherine asked me to come over, but I’ve pondered pitching in at the lab, should they need someone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the holidays, Greg,” Gil said, caressing his shoulders. “You should have some days off, unwind and do some of the things you usually don’t have time for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are a couple of things I’d like to do, now that you’re back,” Greg mumbled and yawned. Most of them centred around a bed and both of them being naked on said bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can tell me all about it tomorrow,” Gil suggested chuckling, “but for now I think you need some sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg was way too tired to argue, so he just nodded. “Hm,” he sighed and placed a kiss on Gil’s cheek. “Night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Greg.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Gil woke, a couple of hours later, his shoulder wet and his mouth dry. Trying to get out of bed proved to be more difficult than anticipated. In his sleep, Greg had transmuted into an octopus who clung to him with all limbs. Smirking, Gil shook his head and slowly untangled himself from his sleeping lover. He couldn’t really blame him. Greg obviously didn’t trust him and wanted to make sure he stayed in bed. Greg mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, but let go of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil switched on the lamp by the bed and for a moment watched Greg’s sleeping form. Greg’s features were relaxed. He was lying on his side, his lips slightly parted, and now drooling onto the pillow. He smiled thoughtfully and suppressed the urge to caress the sleeping man’s cheek. He got up and went over to the bathroom. He quickly took a leak, washed his hands and his face, then brushed his teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Greg mumbled sleepily as he returned to bed. “I think I seriously need to consider handcuffs and shackles.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, what for?” Gil asked and slipped back into bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To make sure you stay in bed,” Greg announced sleepily, snuggling back into his arms and Gil was convinced that Greg would at least attempt it. The thought didn’t disgust or scare him half as much as he told himself it should. Greg laughed softly against his chest. “Hm, I can feel that you like the thought.” Said it and started stroking him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg’s hand was warm and firm and his kisses sweet and deep as they moved against each other. It was slow and tender and perfect. Greg whispered terms of endearments against his neck, telling him how much he’d missed him, missed this. And his body responded. He hadn’t been able to make love to Greg before, but now, after a couple of hours of sleep, he felt a surge of longing and arousal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to make love with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, I want that, too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil’s hands explored his naked skin and Greg sighed in pleasure. He’d been so tight-wound and aroused when they’d gone to bed, tired and horny. Jerking off had given him some physical relief the past few weeks, but it hadn’t been enough to satisfy the aching need for Gil’s presence. His first hunger had been stilled and this wasn’t so much about getting off, but about being intimate with the man he hadn’t been able to touch for way too long. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He planted soft kisses along Gil’s bearded cheek, relishing the warmth of Gil’s body against his. “Can we do it face to face?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that’s what you want, yes, we can do that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil slid an arm under Greg’s neck and touched the hollow of Greg’s knee with his other hand. Greg took the hint and raised his legs, flinging them over Gil’s thighs. They both shifted until his ass came to rest against Gil’s crotch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, nice,” Greg sighed and wrapped his arms around Gil’s neck. He was cradled against Gil’s chest, held in the other man’s arms. Gil kissed him slow and deep and his fingers were suddenly coated in something slick and cool and sliding between Greg’s thighs. He startled and Gil laughed softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you miss this, too?” Gil asked, probing between his buttocks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trembling with anticipation, Greg nodded. “Yes.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I missed this, too,” Gil whispered and carefully slid his fingers into Greg’s tight opening. He felt resistance and Greg tensed. The younger man moaned softly and slid his fingers into the hair in Gil’s neck. Then he drew a deep breath, the tension dissolved, and Gil pushed his fingers deeper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm, so good,” Greg hummed and moved slowly to counter the motion of his probing fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With closed eyes, Greg nodded and Gil was pleased that Greg didn’t try to usher him on, urging him to go ahead and fuck him already, so he took his time. Greg tickled his neck and nipped at his lower lip, making soft, appreciative sounds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally pulled his fingers out and turned to the nightstand to get a condom, Greg stopped him, by placing a hand on his cheek and made him turn his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to feel you in me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let me get a condom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Greg brushed a thumb over Gil’s lower lip. “You don’t need a condom,” he said softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil held his gaze, pondering Greg’s suggestion. “I always thought you’d prefer if I used one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always thought </span>
  <b>you</b>
  <span> preferred using one,” Greg gave back. “I just had no idea how to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil arched a brow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not like asking whether you want to order Thai or Mexican,” Greg explained. “And I, um…” he stopped, letting his voice trail off. Catherine had been right, Gil thought, feeling a little guilty. It was a can of worms, because talking about using condoms or not was not just about fidelity and protection against sexually transmitted diseases. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to bring up the matter, either,” Gil admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you thought I was seeing someone else?” Greg asked anxiously. He didn’t like the thought that they still practised safe sex because Gil thought he was sleeping around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it sound self-absorbed if I said no?” Gil asked back with the hint of a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg shook his head and placed a soft kiss on Gil’s lips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know how you’d react if I suggested we do it without condoms,” Gil said as if that explained everything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t want to put you under pressure,” Gil whispered against his neck. “In case you didn’t like the thought of-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You fucking me bare?” Greg murmured. “And coming inside of me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Gil moaned against his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaning back, Greg searched the other man’s face. “But you already came in my mouth and you didn’t worry about that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil’s tense features softened. “No, I did not.” He smirked at Greg. “And you are sure that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Now it was Greg’s turn to smirk. “You were willing to believe I want to marry you without questioning it, but you need to ask twice if it’s okay to ejaculate inside my ass?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil’s expression froze, seizing up Greg for a moment, then he burst into laughter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg definitely had a way to phrase things, Gil thought and relaxed. He hadn’t breached the topic because he’d been uncertain how to approach Greg and didn’t want to wake sleeping dogs. Unnerving as it was, fortunately, Greg wasn’t afraid to talk about things he rather ignored.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg rolled his eyes, then kissed him. “Now that we established we’re on the same page here, can we proceed?” Greg asked and waggled his eyebrows suggestively. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s an acceptable suggestion,” Gil gave back. “And you seem really eager.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arching a brow, Gil tilted his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t seem to be exactly turned off either now that we talked about it,” Greg added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m not,” Gil said, wondering when his humour had become something endearing about Greg. He’d been mildly annoyed by the younger man’s strange sense of humour in the lab at first. It had been something that at best had caused him to roll his eyes. Now it warmed his insides and made him adore the other man even more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent,” Greg mumbled and kissed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed in pleasure as Gil’s tongue explored his mouth. Being held and kissed like this made up for a lot of things, Greg decided. At least for almost four months of separation. Gil’s fingers slipped into him again, stretching him nicely. Usually, he wasn’t a huge fan of foreplay, but it was something Gil liked. As if he needed to make up for the affection he couldn’t show in the lab or at crime scenes when they finally were alone and naked in bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon Gil replaced his slick fingers with his slick cock, thrusting into him smoothly. They rocked against each other, slowly. Gil stroked his cock, timing the motions of his hand and his hips as he kept on sliding into Greg. He couldn’t thrust as deep as he could have if they’d done it doggy style, but Greg decided that it didn’t matter. Gil was back from Costa Rica, they were going to move in together and get married. Despite everything Sara had said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later, they were wrapped around each other, slick with sweat and semen, still out of breath, and Greg felt a little sore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Gil asked with a concerned expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Greg said and slowly untangled himself from Gil’s arms. He got up from the bed and offered Gil a hand. “Now I’m alright.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sorry,” Gil gave back and took Greg’s hand and led him over to the bathroom. “I was selfish when I was going to Costa Rica. I should have talked to you before-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Warrick told me you once said that if one day you leave the office there wouldn’t be a cake and no one would notice you were gone,” Greg said and started the water. He didn’t sound accusing, but sad and Gil suddenly realised that Greg hadn’t been mad because he hadn’t been included in the decision-making process. Greg had been afraid that he wouldn’t come back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And Sara said that it served me right,” Greg added, looking utterly crestfallen. “Because I’d stolen you from her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil sighed and wrapped his arms around Greg’s shoulders. “Oh, Greg. You didn’t steal me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No?” Greg asked, giving him a hopeful glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Gil gave back. “You won me over with your quirky humour and persistency.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg’s expression lit and he placed a kiss on Gil’s chest. “I love you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, lucky me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, yes,” Greg mumbled against his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on,” Gil suggested, “let’s hit the shower before we run out of hot water.” </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You look content,” Gil noticed as they were back in bed a bit later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh fuck, you bet,” Greg nodded and with a lazy gesture caressed the other man’s cheek and his neck. He was utterly blissed out, well-fucked and just out of the shower. His hair was still wet and it wouldn’t take long until he’d fall asleep. “You look like the fucking Greek god of fertility and wisdom like this with your tan and the grey beard and the white around your temples.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are aware that in Greek mythology wisdom and fertility are impersonated by women?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg gave him a smouldering gaze. “Yes, Athena and Aphrodite,” he replied. “And maybe I am biased, but I am really glad that you’ve got a penis, not a vagina.” To underline his words, he slowly slid his hand over Gil’s damp, tanned chest and patted his belly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad you approve,” Gil noted good-naturedly and caressed the back of his hand. “So, if I am the Greek god of wisdom and fertility, who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a yawn, Greg snuggled closer. “I don’t know, a catamite?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing, Gil intertwined their fingers. “Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, why not?” He liked the idea, it made for a good fantasy. A Greek god and a young pleasure boy. And he couldn’t dismiss the similarities to their identities and roles in real life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil switched off the light and placed a kiss on Greg’s forehead. “You know, it does give me pleasure to be with you,” he softly said. “In every sense of the word, not just sexually.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Gil confirmed. “And I’ve only realised how much when I was in Costa Rica.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absence makes the heart grow fond, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good night, Greg.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chuckling, Greg placed a kiss on Gil’s chest. “Good night, Gil.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gil woke a few hours later and decided to let Greg sleep, who looked like he needed it. He got out of bed and slipped into some sweat pants and a tee-shirt and made himself some coffee. Sitting on the sofa, he did some reading until Greg got up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stark naked and with tousled hair, Greg walked over to the sofa and sat down on Gil’s lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning,” Greg mumbled, his eyes still bleary. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil pulled off his glasses and together with the book placed them on the small table beside his second mug with coffee. “Good morning,” he gave back softly. “Did you sleep well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, yes.” Apart from the bleary eyes, Greg looked well-rested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good.” He caressed Greg’s shoulder. His skin was still pale but had a soft rosy hue and it was warm to his touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg brushed a hand over the book, then took the mug. “When did you get up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amused, Gil watched Greg sip from the mug, paying more attention to the coffee than to the copy of Shakespeare’s sonnets. “An hour or two ago. I didn’t want to wake you, so I got up and did some reading.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg put the mug back down on the table and snuggled against his chest. “Hm,” he sighed contentedly. “What are your plans for today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We could go for breakfast and then have a look at the house again,” he suggested. He hadn’t really made plans and he’d be fine with anything Greg suggested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, sounds good,” Greg gave back but didn’t move. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are aware that leaving my apartment requires you getting dressed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that so?” Greg asked, sounding smug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, because I don’t want you to parade around naked in front of other people, either,” Gil whispered against Greg’s neck, causing him to shiver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He liked the thought that Gil was just as possessive as he was. “Hm, well, in this case, I’ll throw on something so we can go out for breakfast,” he announced, trying to sound casual and kissed Gil’s cheek. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing, they went back to the bedroom and quickly got dressed. Half an hour later they were sitting at a corner table at Denny’s. He wore the new black watch and Gil’s knee touched his under the table and he smirked at the sight of the people at the table next to them. Three generations, a young couple, two boys, about 5 and 7 years old, and their grandpa, who wore a red cap with a white bobble to entertain the kids. The man gave him a smile, and he returned it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil shared more anecdotes from Costa Rica over breakfast and Greg updated him on the gossip from the lab. Though Greg was certain that Gil was not really interested, he seemed to listen intently. They still hadn’t decided what they wanted to do during the holidays. He had been pondering going in for work, but he wouldn’t mind going on a trip with Gil for a couple of days. When he looked up, he caught Gil gazing at him with a thoughtful smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you like your pancakes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Greg gave back, “I was just wondering whether we could go to San Francisco or Santa Monica for a couple of days?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil took a bite from his plate, chewed and washed down the bite with a sip of coffee as if he needed to buy time. “Over Christmas?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg nodded and Gil tilted his head then shrugged his shoulders. “Sure why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They settled the bill and returned to the car and talked about San Francisco and Santa Monica. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could go surfing,” Greg suggested enthusiastically. “It’s been ages since I’ve been surfing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll be quite windy and the sea will be turbulent,” Gil threw in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg laughed. “That’s what wetsuits are for. And if the sea gets too wild or I get cold, you could warm me up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to picture it, Greg in a tight-fitting suit made of neoprene. Maybe they should go somewhere warm, he wondered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Or you could entertain me with the story of how you got that tan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you want to know?” He asked teasingly and placed a hand on Greg’s knee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now that you come up with flimsy excuses, I want to hear it at all costs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Laughing he placed a hand on Greg’s knee and started telling him. A couple of days after he arrived at the research station, a couple of the other scientists from the programme had taken him on a hike in the forest. When he tried to find his own way in the forest he discovered a tiny pond in a clearing. He’d worked up some sweat and after making sure he was alone there, he stripped off his clothes and waded into the pond. The luke-warm water lapped gently at his skin and he was hard in no time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg, who had been listening to his account quietly, pulled his hand towards his crotch. They were closer to Greg’s place, so they went there. Greg’s lips were on his the moment they closed the front door, and they left a trail of clothes on the floor. Greg urged him on, pressed a tube of lube in his hand and climbed onto the bed, wriggling his naked ass invitingly. He took the cue, slicked himself and slid into Greg with one smooth thrust. Greg threw back his head and wailed, but it wasn’t pain. He set a fast pace, his fingers digging into Greg’s hips. He felt light-headed as he realised that his fingers touched Greg’s tattoo. Their initials, inked into Greg’s skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me I’m yours,” Greg panted, countering his thrusts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re mine,” he panted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple of minutes later they lay on the bed, still panting heavily and tightly wrapped around each other. Greg drew lazy circles on his chest and sighed happily. Gil realised that Greg wasn’t as keen on going back to have a look at the house in Catherine’s neighbourhood as he’d hoped Greg would be. But maybe there was a middle way?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Greg,” he asked when he had caught his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you like to move in with me?” Gil asked him out of the blue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg lifted his head and gave him a puzzled gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At my place, I mean,” Gil clarified. “There is enough room and I’ve got an inkling that you’re not so fond of the idea we buy a house as I thought you might be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg’s expression softened. “I liked the house, really,” he said. “And I think that it was super sweet of you to make the effort-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you didn’t like it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg shrugged. “No, it was cool, really,” he admitted. “But I kinda like my place and yours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gil looked at him for a long moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fireplace is awesome,” Greg noticed. “But this is Vegas, and you don’t need a fireplace here. Maybe we can find something else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am sure we can,” Gil gave back with a broad smile. “We could use the holidays to move some of your things to my place. What do you think?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think,” Greg said and placed a gentle kiss on Gil’s cheek, “that this is the best Christmas ever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Finis </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(for now, and Happy Holidays!)</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ohkay, I'm not really good with naming "NPCs", so I slipped in two of my gaming heroes here. Mario and Ezio Auditore from the phantastic second and third part of the Assassin's Creed series.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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